Chapter 14 - The Confession of a Coward
Tyler was sobbing.
The arrogant stickup kid from the Macon back alleys had completely dissolved into a trembling
broken heap of grease and fear.
Urine soaked the front of his faded jeans
darkening the denim
pooling onto the rug.
“Don’t
Meggie… please
don’t,” he wept
his hands raised in surrender
his palms smeared with soot from the shotgun discharge.
“Raymond… Raymond made me do it!
He said he’d send me back to Reidsville for ten years if I didn't get the boy!
He said he had the judge in his pocket!”
I rolled my chair forward until my knees touched Tyler’s shoulder.
I reached down
grabbed him by the collar of his damp leather jacket
and yanked his face toward mine with the surprising strength of twenty years of upper-body conditioning.
“Where is Raymond right now
Tyler?” I demanded
my voice like steel grating over stone.
Tyler choked
saliva bubbling at the corners of his mouth.
“At… at the Georgian Club!
The private dining room on the twelfth floor!
He’s waiting for a call!
He said if I didn't call by midnight
he was going to have Marcus leak the old arson files to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution!”
I looked up at Frank.
The old driver had already bound Curtis’s hands behind his back with heavy plastic flex-cuffs.
“Frank
call Detective Harris at central homicide,” I commanded.
“Tell him we have two intruders in custody on an attempted burglary and aggravated assault charge.
Deliver the ballistics report and the marked currency.”
“And Raymond?” Frank asked
his eyes narrowing.
“Raymond belongs to me,” I replied.
I let go of Tyler’s collar
letting him collapse back against the ruined floorboards.
I turned my attention to Megan.
She was still holding the shotgun
her arms trembling slightly from the recoil
her breath coming in ragged
shuddering gasps.
The smell of cordite hung thick in the air
sharp and acidic.
I reached out and gently laid my fingers over the barrel of the gun.
“It’s over
Megan,” I said softly.
“He’s done.”
Slowly
her fingers uncoiled from the trigger guard.
She lowered the stock.
The reality of what she had just done washed over her like an icy wave.
Her knees buckled.
Before she could hit the floor
I caught her by the forearm
pulling her toward my chair
anchoring her against the titanium frame.
She buried her face in my shoulder
her small body shaking with silent
violent sobs.
Twenty years of isolation
twenty years of cold
unfeeling silence in this mausoleum of an estate
and here was this woman
weeping against my chest
covered in gunpowder and rain
having just fought for her son’s life in my study.
I wrapped my arm around her back
holding her firm
letting her lean her full weight against me.
“He will never touch you again
Megan,” I murmured into her hair.
“I swear it on Julian’s grave.”
From the hallway
Nancy appeared
carrying Noah in a thick wool blanket.
The boy wasn't crying.
He looked through the open door with wide
wondering eyes
saw his mother
and reached out with a small
chubby hand.
“Mama,” he chirped
the sweet
innocent sound cutting through the stench of blood
gunpowder
and ruin.
Megan pulled back from my chest
wiped her face furiously with the back of her sleeve
and took her son from Nancy’s arms.
She kissed Noah’s forehead
kissed his cheeks
kissed the small crescent birthmark that had saved his life.
“We’re safe
baby,” she whispered
her voice breaking.
“We’re finally safe.”
“Not quite
Megan,” I said
my voice returning to its cold
commanding register as I looked out through the shattered French doors into the rainy night.
May you like
“There is still one account left to settle in this city.
And it ends tonight at the Georgian Club.”
